Alas, this trip we got rooked out of Arlo — KRCC wasn’t playing it until noon, when we were well out of range, and KUNC must have played it before we got in range. *

So we listened to Sam on the way up and Richard Pryor’s “… is it something I said?” on the way back. And thus, since the Comedy Rule of Three is clearly in effect here today, and in order to shine a bit of comedic light on the festival of consumerist idiocy called “Black Friday” that precedes The Greatest Bullshit Story Ever Told, we herewith present a portion of George Carlin’s 10th HBO special, “George Carlin: 40 Years of Comedy.”

* Incidentally, we did finally get our Arlo fix around 8:30 p.m. Bibleburg time thanks to the miracle of the streaming internets. There may be a god after all.

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant (excepting Alice).

“And friends, somewhere in Washington, enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I’m singing you this song now is ’cause you may know somebody in a similar situation — or you may be in a similar situation — and if you’re in a situation like that there’s only one thing you can do.

“Walk into the shrink, wherever you are, just walk in and say, “Shrink, you can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.” And walk out.

“You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he’s really sick and they won’t take him. And if two people, two people do it — in harmony — they may think they’re both faggots and they won’t take either of them. And three people do it, three — can you imagine, three people walking in singing a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walking out? They may think it’s an organization. And can you, can you imagine 50 people a day, I said 50 people a day walking in singing a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walking out? And friends, they may think it’s a movement.

“And that’s just what it is — the Alice’s Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement — and all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it comes around on the guitar! With feeling.”

So sing it, y’all. I’ll be singing right along with you. See you after dinner.

Turkish, our local version of the IWW Sabo-Cat, takes a Labor Day break from his duties, whatever those might be.

Holiday, schmoliday. I had to work this morning. Not very hard, or for very long, but still.

The prez was working, too, calling for a $50 billion public works plan that seems to have absolutely no hope of coming to fruition before the Congresscritters scurry home, running like rats for re-election, proving yet again that they care more about whether they stay employed than whether we do.

Kevin Drum, another poor sod at the keyboard instead of the grill, is dismissive of the proposal, calling it “too small to be more than a pinprick.” Steve Benen speaks more gently of the plan, saying “it’s good to have lawmakers put on the spot before the election, taking a position on sensible, effective economic proposals like this one.” He also reminds us that Rep. John Boehner (R-Tanning Salon) is an idiot.

He adds: “And it’s slightly sickening to realize that the big winners in the midterm elections are likely to be the very people who first got us into this mess, then did everything in their power to block action to get us out.”

• Late update: To celebrate Labor Day Herself and I attended an Arlo Guthrie concert — yes, thatArlo Guthrie — right here in Bibleburg; in fact, only a few blocks from Chez Dog, in a park behind the Fine Arts Center. He didn’t do “Alice’s Restaurant,” but he did sing the great Steve Goodman tune, “City of New Orleans,” “The Motorcycle Song,” his fabled Woodstock number “Coming Into Los Angeles,” a couple of Leadbelly bits and (of course) his old man’s“This Land Is Your Land.” We sang along, a few thousand elderly hippies plus a few young folks who must have grown weary of their generation’s “stupid fucking tuneless horseshit,” as Thomas McGuane has accurately described it. It was great. “Take a good look around, Toots,” I told Herself as we strolled in. “This is what my nursing home is gonna look like.” Arlo must have been thinking along similar lines. At one point he quipped, “I’m what’s left of me.” Me, too, bruh. And I wasn’t even at Woodstock. At least, I don’t think I was. …

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Patrick O'Grady is a cartoonist, columnist, cyclist and curmudgeon who sells words and pictures to Bicycle Retailer and Industry News, Adventure Cyclist and pretty much anyone else who can spell his name correctly next to the phrase which sounds so musical to his tattered ears: "Pay to the order of. ..." For more on Your Humble Narrator, click the comic.

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